


Ascendancy

by meghanisadweeb



Series: At Your Mercy 'Verse Spin-offs [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AYM 'verse, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-27 01:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13870278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meghanisadweeb/pseuds/meghanisadweeb
Summary: as·cend·an·cyəˈsendənsē/nounoccupation of a position of dominant power or influence.Alternative title: Snippets of Amelie and Ambrose settling into their lives together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isnonstop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isnonstop/gifts).



> Takes place 2-ish months after 'Ensconce'.

Amelie frowned, looking down at Ambrose with narrow eyes. He shrunk down a little bit, already knowing what she was going to say and what was going to happen after she said it. “Did you do all of your chores?” She raised a brow and crossed her arms, clearly knowing what the answer was already.  
  
Ambrose fiddled with the lock on his collar and stared down at the floor. Not only had he not done all of his chores, he hadn’t done any of his chores. The bed wasn’t made, the dishes weren’t washed, and the laundry sat in a basket still waiting to be folded and put away. “No, miss. I got caught up with some of my friends and- I didn’t mean to, but I just lost track of time. I’m sorry.” He bit his lip, glancing up at his dominant. He deserved to be punished, after all. He had his rules, he’d agreed to them, and he knew all about them. And he broke them anyway. That meant that he deserved a punishment, and the sooner he submitted to it, the sooner he would be in Amelie’s arms, laying in bed and cuddling with her.  
  
“That’s what I thought. Now, you know why you have a chore list in the first place. We both do what we need to do to keep this relationship afloat, and your end of that bargain is taking care of the household. I’m glad that you have friends and I’m glad that you’ve been having so much fun, but that can’t come at the cost of your household duties.” She cupped his cheek and smiled softly. That was the thing about Amelie - even when she was about to punish him, she was sweet and never, ever angry. She was kind and just wanted him to be better. It was one of the things he loved most about her.  
  
She was so different from his father in that regard. His father was always angry when he was punishing him or one of his submissive siblings. He shouted and he got red in the face and he would force him over a desk and hit him until he cried. He thanked a God that he didn’t particularly believe in every single day that Amelie was who she was - gentle, caring, and genuinely nurturing.  
  
“What are you going to do to punish me, miss?” His voice was quiet and he couldn’t help but be nervous. Amelie had only punished him twice in the past, and they had both been minor infractions that ended up with him writing lines or something similar.  
  
“Don’t be scared, Ambrose. You know that I won’t hurt you unless you’ve done something really, really bad. I don’t believe in corporal punishment for something like this, and you know that.” She pecked his forehead, and he glowed underneath her attention. “I’m going to have you kneel for me, alright? On the hardwood, naked, for an hour or so.”  
  
Ambrose whimpered, but it wasn’t bad enough to safeword out of. He had earned the punishment and it wasn’t going to cross a line. His knees would hurt for a little while and his ass might get a little cold, but that wasn’t disastrous. “Yes, miss. And then it’ll all be okay?”  
  
“Of course it will. I love you, now strip.”  
  
His knees hurt for the first fifteen minutes or so, but then it was more of a dull ache and he could just let his mind wander. Things got sort of fuzzy around the edges and he wasn't entirely sure of how much time had passed. The only thing keeping him from floating away completely was the familiar feeling of his collar, anchoring him to the ground. The collar meant he couldn't leave. Amelie loved him, and he loved her. Before he knew what was going on, his punishment was over and Amelie was tapping him on the shoulder and pulling him into her arms.  
  
“Oh, my sweet boy. You did so well. Let me take care of you.” She hummed into his ear, pulling him into the bedroom. He was shivering, and he wasn’t really sure why.  
  
“Miss, I- I need-” He mumbled, tucking his face into the spot where his dominant’s neck met her shoulder. “Was I good? Was I- Did I do it the right way? Did I take the punishment how you wanted me to?” She smelled so good, like vanilla shampoo and cake batter flavored chapstick. He just wanted his domme and he wanted her now. Fuck, he was so needy. He was a bad submissive, all he ever did was let his domme down- Her soft, melodic voice broke him out of his thoughts.  
  
“Oh my god yes. You’re such a good boy. You always do what I say and even when you don’t, you never complain about your punishments or anything else, actually. You’re an absolutely perfect submissive. You’re the best submissive I could have ever asked for. Ever. I’m so, so lucky that you’re mine. I’m so lucky that I got to put a collar on you before some awful dom that would have crushed your spirit got the chance.” Amelie brushed her hands through Ambrose’s hair, peppering kisses all over his face.  
  
She pulled Tylenol out of the bedside table and handed him two, conjuring a cup of water out of what seemed like nowhere. “Take them, darling. Your knees might not hurt right now, but they will soon.” She smiled softly, arranging them under the covers after Ambrose obeyed.  
  
“I love you, miss, I’m sorry that I was bad. I didn’t mean to break the rules, I just-”  
  
“Shh, I know. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? I know that you didn’t want to forget your chores. I know that you couldn’t help it, and it’s okay. It’s okay now, I promise. It’s all okay.” She left a trail of kisses down Ambrose’s jaw, smiling against his skin all the way. “My beautiful submissive with his gorgeous brown eyes and his soft lips and his cute little button nose. You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever met. It's crazy for you to think that you're anything short of a gift from whatever deity balances the tenuous order of the universe. I love you very, very much, Ambrose.”  
  
It was barely even five, but he was tired and Amelie’s presence was so comforting and her body so warm that he couldn’t help but drift off.  
  
\---  
  
He woke up to Amelie sewing in her craft room, silently. She smiled when she saw him, leaning back in her chair. He wasn’t sure what she was making, and as bad as it might sound, he didn’t really care.  
  
“I’m gonna do my chores, miss,” Ambrose mumbled, looking down at the floor. He really wanted to spend time with Amelie, but he knew that he needed to do what he needed to do. Amelie frowned, standing up and shuffling over to him. She raised his chin and scanned his face quickly.  
  
“Ambrose, are you okay?” She furrowed her brows, and he shrunk down a little bit.  
  
“Yes, miss.”  
  
She frowned and made a noise, but she didn't comment. “As long as you're sure. I did the dishes because I needed a plate, so all you need to worry about is making the bed and doing laundry. I love you, my beautiful boy.” She kissed him softly, smiling as she pulled away.  
  
Ambrose let go of a breath he didn't know he was holding in the first place and make himself smile. “I love you too, miss.” He always dreaded doing the dishes. The idea of gross food and other residue made him want to puke, but he wasn't going to bitch about it. No matter what Amelie said, it was his duty to do it. He was a submissive - he was supposed to take care of the house and any kids they might have.  
  
Amelie’s expression changed all of a sudden. “If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't fix it for you. This doesn't work unless you're honest with me.” She was clearly irritated, at least a little.  
  
“I'm sorry, miss.” Ambrose murmured, fidgeting with his collar. “I just- I don't like doing the dishes and I was glad that you did them for me. Touching the food makes me feel sort of queasy and it always has, miss. But I know that it's what I'm supposed to do, and- I just want to be a good submissive. The kind of submissive that a domme like you deserves.”  
  
“If you don't like doing dishes, you don't have to. I'll do it. And, Ambrose?”  
  
“Yes, miss?”  
  
“You aren't the type of submissive that a domme like me deserves. You're so, so much better. I love you so much. You're like- Okay, this is gonna be kind of a ramble, but bear with me. Like, your smile? Oh my God, your smile makes me forget everything else in the world. Your laugh is even better because I put that laughter there most of the time. I'm worthy of making the most amazing submissive in the whole world laugh.” Amelie wrapped her arms around him after kissing his forehead quickly.  
  
And for once, Ambrose believed her.


	2. Chapter 2

“Miss?” Ambrose asked softly, looking down. The dominant raised an eyebrow, resting more heavily on the couch. He took that as a sign to go on. “What- What’s your plan? For… After you get out of college.” 

 

He barely even knew what she was studying. Something relating to law or government. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she would tell him, but- Actually, he didn't think that she would tell him. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that she definitely would, but all of his dad’s brainwashing had stuck, despite the fact he knew it was bullshit. He wasn’t supposed to meddle in dominants’ business, especially when it came to their work or education. 

 

He was supposed to keep his mouth shut, obey, and be attractive.

 

“There’s only so many things you can do with a political science degree. I want to get out of college with a Master’s, pull some strings with my father, and hopefully land a job in a position that I can run for Congress. I want to fight for submissive’s rights - your rights. And, if you’re comfortable, I want you on my arm the entire time I’m doing it. It’s one thing to talk about change, but it’s another to  _ show _ people change.” Amelie said, like it was nothing. It was certainly more of an answer than Ambrose had been expecting. 

 

“After I have a stint in the House, I want to move onto the Senate, and. I don’t really know after that. I’ll look at everything and then maybe run for president.” She shrugged, taking his hand.

 

Ambrose White, First Gentleman of the United States of America. 

 

Amelie White, President of the United States of America. 

 

They both had very, very nice rings to them. 

 

“That’s- That’s really great, miss. I like the idea of being there for you while you change the world.” He hummed happily when his wife pulled him into her chest, breathing in her scent.

 

\---

 

“Ambrose, I need you to make enough dinner for ten tomorrow night, and have out the good china and some champagne. I’m having a couple classmates over and they’re bringing their subs. Fair warning: They have some really shitty opinions about gender roles, but their parents are really important. It would be super helpful if I could get into their good graces, and I want to impress them with my perfect submissive.” The words kind of came out of nowhere, but Ambrose just nodded.

 

“‘Course, miss. I was going to make ravioli, anyway, and I always make way, way too much of that.” He usually used a kosher recipe, just so they could take some of the leftovers to James and Thomas. Amelie could only eat so much for lunch.

 

“Good boy. I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

There was nothing that could have prepared Ambrose for the next day. He woke up, kissed Amelie goodbye before she headed to her nine o’clock lecture at eight, and then got to work with dinner.

 

Cooking was something he enjoyed, and something he was really serious about. Especially if his dominant was having someone (read: another dom) over. It took him a full hour to even get the dough made and ready, another for the filling, two more for the sauce, and then he had to let the sauce simmer. While he was waiting on that, he made the tiramisu, fucked around until he had a half-decent french onion soup and bread bowls that he was extremely proud of, and threw together a pretty good salad. He was just pulling the ravioli out of the oven when Amelie came in with a bunch of people behind her.

 

Ambrose snapped to attention, because four of those people were being too loud and cocky to be anything but dominants. He needed to be a good boy for Amelie.

 

He ended up kneeling at her feet while she sat at the head of the dinner table and chatted. Ambrose talked very, very quietly to one of his domme’s friend’s subs. Her name was Campbell or Kendall or something. He didn’t actually know.

 

“Ambrose, boy, come here.” He heard Amelie say, her voice clear, crisp, and commanding. There wasn’t a lot of room for refusal with her tone. He stood up on two shaky legs, moving to her side. “I never properly introduced you to our guests.” She wrapped her hand around his waist, but it wasn’t as comforting as it usually would have been. 

 

“Oh,” Ambrose said quietly, looking down at the floor. “Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet all of you.” He practically whispered, feeling his palms start to sweat.

 

“You know, he made this entire dinner from scratch. He’s an excellent cook, always surprising me with what he puts in my lunches and what he makes for dinner. I’m always looking forward to what my wonderful submissive has made for me when I get home from classes.” Amelie glanced up at Ambrose and moved over on her chair. “Sit.” She said softly, gently, even. It was clearly an order, but her tone was soft and loving.

 

He did as he was told, like always, but kept his eyes fixed on his lap until someone other than his domme lifted his chin.

 

He was sort of ugly. At least, that was Ambrose’s first thought. His nose was crooked and so were his teeth and his eyes were a muddy hazel. His voice was rough and grating and it made Ambrose's teeth hurt. The dom pulled back after a second, shaking his head.

 

“You know, Ames, you shouldn’t praise him so much for stuff like that. He should do it anyway, and it’s just going to go to his head. He’s going to get overconfident and rebellious and it’s going to be a mess for everyone involved.” He said casually, leaning back in his chair and taking a bite of his food. “It gets bad when subs start to think that they’re  _ equal _ . They’re stupid and overly emotional and useless for anything other than pleasure, cooking, and cleaning, the whole lot of them.”

 

Ambrose flinched back, rubbing his hands on his pants nervously. “Yes, sir.” He whispered, feeling tears start to sting his eyes.

 

“You’re more than welcome to leave, Gavin. You’ve overstayed your welcome, you’re directly insulting my husband, and I won’t have that in this apartment or anywhere else. So, take your coat, take this poor girl that you call your girlfriend, apologize to Ambrose, and leave before I make you.” Amelie said, poised and dignified as usual. Her shoulders were squared and her chin raised, the image of dominance. Ambrose felt butterflies in his stomach, and he wasn't entirely sure if they were from fear or something a lot less PG. 

 

She ended up continuing. “Now, Gavin, and I won’t tell you again. Ambrose is my whole heart and my entire life, and I’m sorry if you don’t see submissives the same way I do. They’re people too, and wanting to give themselves over to a dominant doesn’t make a submissive any less intelligent than me or you.”

 

“I’m  _ sorry _ .” Gavin rolled his eyes before standing up and taking the girl Ambrose had been talking to by the collar of her shirt. “Come.” He barked to her, leading her out.

 

Amelie looked at Ambrose with soft and apologetic eyes. She didn’t even have to say anything. “It’s alright, miss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I <3 comments.

**Author's Note:**

> I <3 comments.


End file.
